


If You Don't Know Where You Are Going

by chaosmanor



Category: Six Feet Under
Genre: Multi, Sibling Incest, Voyeurism, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2006
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-25
Updated: 2006-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:52:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosmanor/pseuds/chaosmanor





	If You Don't Know Where You Are Going

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pesha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pesha/gifts).



An unlocked front door was yet another indication of Brenda's inability to live in the real fucking world, and Nate was all set to start in on explaining to her exactly why this was a bad thing, when he heard Brenda giggle.

Brenda was not the giggling kind, unless she was trashed, then she could combine giggling with some of the funkiest fucking Nate had ever done, so he put his keys quietly on the sideboard, beside the chrysanthemums, and slipped out of his shoes.

Fuck, he could do with a toke himself.

He loosened his tie and crept across the room, smell of pot and incense in the air, and Brenda giggled again, high and childish.

The sliding screen doors to the bedroom were closed, so Billy's voice was a surprise.

"Isabel," he said. "Want another cookie?"

"And milk," Brenda said, her voice far too high. She was trashed, or she was playing, or possibly both.

The sliding doors were genuine rice paper, useless for stopping sound, but when Nate licked the tip of one finger and pressed it against the paper at eye level, the paper melted away, so he could peer into the bedroom.

Brenda, with her back to the door, crouched down on the floor cross-legged, while Billy faced Nate, with two glasses, a carton of milk and a packet of Oreos between them. Brenda's hair was in two pigtails, and she was wearing something loose and cotton that Nate didn't recognize, while Billy was dressed in striped pajamas. Nate knew the attitude of her shoulders, though, and the hairstyle. She'd played a child for him one night, something that had both disturbed him and made him harder than stone.

Billy poured a glass of milk, handed it over to Brenda, and said, "Say `thank you'."

"Thank you, Nathaniel," Brenda said, her voice coquettish.

"Why don't you come over here and give me a cuddle," Billy said, his voice low, and Nate found his throat tightening.

There were implications here, in the velvet of Billy's voice, and Brenda's answering giggle as she awkwardly clambered over to perch in Billy's lap, something about the complacent smile on Billy's lips, and the way Brenda's nightgown slid up over her knees.

"That's a good girl," Billy said. "You're all grown up now, aren't you?"

Brenda blushed coyly, crossing her arms across her breasts and ducking her chin.

"Do you think so?" she asked, her voice so soft Nate could barely hear her.

"You're turning into a beautiful woman," Billy said, touching Brenda's chin with his fingertips to lift her face back up.

There was milk on Brenda's lip, and Nate held his breath as Billy wiped his thumb slowly over Brenda's bottom lip, smudging the milk, then licked his thumb.

"You've got crumbs on you too," Billy murmured, and fuck, but Nate was getting hard, watching this crazy mind game unfolding in front of him. He didn't for one moment believe that Brenda would actually do anything with her fucked-up brother, but the role-play was getting to him far too much for his own good.

"Where?" Brenda asked in her little-girl voice.

"Here," Billy said, and his hand brushed slowly down the front of her nightgown, lingering over the shape of Brenda's breast. "Lots of crumbs..."

Nate heard the hitch in Brenda's voice, a sound he knew intimately, and she squirmed a little in Billy's lap, pushing ineffectually at his hand in a way that actually pressed it against her breast.

"Don't," she whispered, and Billy's fingers found the buttons down the front of her nightgown, flicking the first one open, to expose the base of Brenda's neck.

"Beautiful," Billy said, and Nate had to reach down and squeeze himself through his work trousers, it was such a fucking turn-on.

Brenda whimpered, submissive and needy, and Billy's fingers undid the second and third buttons, then he dragged his knuckles down Brenda's sternum, shaping his hand around the curve of her breast, easing fingers inside the cotton of her nightgown.

Nate should say something, do something: leave, perhaps--stop watching, go lock himself in the toilet and jerk off, imagining Billy fucking Brenda in the other room--but he was weak, weaker even than Billy and Brenda, because he was going to stay.

Nate slid the zipper of his fly down, slowly, so each tooth of the zipper clicked faintly, while Billy's hand was inside his sister's nightgown, squeezing her breast, and they both giggled uncertainly.

"How does that feel, Isabel?" Billy asked, as Nate pulled his cock free from his underwear, his fingers curled around it, squeezing hard.

"Makes me feel all funny," Brenda whispered, and she moved her legs, squeezing her thighs together, nightgown sliding up higher, over milk skin.

"Where?" Billy asked. "Down there?"

"Yeah," Brenda said. "Like I want to... you know."

"Makes me feel the same," Billy said, his voice tight in his throat. "Want me to make it better?"

Billy's hand slid out of Brenda's nightgown, leaving the beautiful fullness of her breast exposed, then settled on her bare knee.

His hand inched up Brenda's thigh, pushing her nightgown up, and it was so fucking wrong, and so fucking hot.

"Nathaniel?" Brenda whispered, and the rustle of cotton fabric was loud in the room.

Billy's hand reached the top of Brenda's thigh, and they both sighed.

"Oh fuck," Billy whispered, and Brenda moved a little, shifting on his lap, letting her thighs fall open slightly, and Nate wasn't sure if it was his imagination, or whether he could actually smell the heady scent of her cunt through the rice paper doors.

"What's that?" Brenda asked, childish curiosity in her voice, shifting her weight again, giving Nate a brief glance of her pubic hair, making him stroke his cock, just the once, to ease the ache that was building in him.

"My penis," Billy said, easing his fingers across Brenda's thigh, sliding them between her legs, probing up.

Brenda gasped, closing her eyes, letting her legs fall wider apart, and Nate watched entranced as Billy rubbed his fingers between Brenda's labia, spreading fluid expertly.

"What are you doing?" Brenda asked.

"Does that feel good, little girl?" Billy asked, and Brenda nodded.

"It does," she whispered, making Nate's balls tighter than sin, so fluid leaked out of his cock, drooling down from the head, begging to be spread out with his fingers.

Brenda moved again, her hard nipple jutting out through the open front of her nightgown, and Billy let go of her cunt and reached down under her buttocks, pushing material aside, and freeing his long, hard cock.

"Close your legs, Isabel," Billy said, his voice husky, and Brenda moved, pressing her thighs together, trapping the length of Billy's cock between her flesh, so that it was out of sight, but still burned into Nate's imagination.

Billy's eyes closed, his mouth dropping open, and he thrust up into the warmth of Brenda's thighs, moaning.

"Please..." Brenda whispered, so tempting that Nate had to steady himself with one hand on the bookshelf beside the door. He wanted desperately to burst into the room and fuck Brenda blind, but he couldn't deny that he was even more curious about how far they'd go, how twisted the pair of them--and himself--were.

"Isabel..." Billy croaked, and Brenda unclenched her thighs, revealing Billy's cock again.

Nate watched, disbelievingly, so fucking turned on he wanted to scream, while Billy guided the head of his cock against Brenda's labia, pressing his dark purple flesh against the slick folds of her cunt, pressing the head in, both of them moaning loudly.

Billy groaned deeply, rocking his hips hard, pushing up into Brenda, making Brenda cry out and rub urgent fingers against her clit, writhing and twisting, her face contorted as she came, blotches of red spreading across her face and chest, while Billy jabbed up and into her hard, shouting and gasping.

It was too much, watching Brenda come like that, and Nate groaned out loud too, jerking at his cock roughly, coming hard, too late to remember to be quiet, not a chance of explaining why he was watching...

Brenda's groans turned into peals of laughter, and she and Billy fell back onto the floor, both of them shrieking.

"Nate, you perve!" Brenda called out, over the sound of Billy's hysterical laughter, and the rice paper door slid open. "How long have you been standing there?"

Her nightgown had dropped back to her knees, one of her pigtails had slid undone, and she smelled of come and cunt, but her smile was warm.

"Long enough," Nate admitted. He was standing there, cock in his hand, his come streaking down the rice paper door, melting the paper away, so there wasn't really any way around admitting it.

Brenda punched him gently in the arm. "You'd better join us then," she said.

* * *

The three of them were a tangle of limbs in Brenda's bed; Brenda's hair had fallen down completely, and her nightgown was bunched up around her waist, when Nate slid inside her. Knowing she was slick with Billy's come just made him harder; knowing that it was Billy's fingers digging into Nate's thighs, guiding him in, was dangerous.

"Oh fuck," Brenda groaned, rolling the three of them over, so she was astride Nate, his cock buried deep inside her. In the mirror, Nate could see the tattoo across her back: _Nathaniel._

Billy crawled up the mattress, knelt up and slid his cock into Nate's mouth, fused his mouth to Brenda's, grabbing at her breast through her nightgown, and it was so fucked up, and so fucking good that Nate wasn't going to fight any of it.

He wasn't even sure anymore that they were playing a game. Maybe this was real, maybe this was what all three of them wanted more than anything.

 

 

 


End file.
